


Desperate

by redsnake05



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-10 20:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Rodney want to get naked, but events conspire against them, time and time again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate

Rodney tugged John impatiently through the door to his quarters, mouth mashing hungrily into his, hands already sliding up his shirt. John groaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Rodney and pressing close. An hour to spare before debriefing, dismissed to get a shower and wash off the mud, and he intended to see that they made the best possible use of it. Squeezing Rodney's ass in his hands, John started to move them across the room.

Shower," he gasped, jerking free from the kiss. Rodney nodded, hands busy with the fastenings on John's jacket, mouth occupied with his neck, licking and nibbling lines of fire up and down his throat. John pushed Rodney further back with his hips, nudging him towards the door. He needed to get Rodney naked now, get his hands all over that smooth, pale skin, sink his teeth into him, marking and claiming him. Reminding them both that they were alive and belonged to each other, no matter how uncertain life seemed in Pegasus, on Atlantis.

Stumbling together across the floor, Rodney managed to get John's vest off, dropped carelessly to the floor, dragging his hands up John's arms and diging his fingers in under the sleeve of his t-shirt. John whimpered, his own hands busy trying to get Rodney's pants open, desperate to palm Rodney's cock. Rodney hissed in pleasure as the fabric parted and John's hand slipped in, pushing under the elastic.  
"Oh, god," breathed Rodney, "that's heaven. Yeah, right there." John grinned into Rodney's neck, teeth just grazing the skin, desire burning hot and fierce over his skin. They needed to get their clothes off now, pressed together under the shower, rubbing against each other in a film of soap and steam.

"Colonel Sheppard, Dr McKay, this is Control," squawked a tinny voice in their ears. John jumped back, stumbling on his discarded jacket and slumping against the wall. He drew a deep breath and acknowledged the message. He looked at Rodney, still standing in the middle of the room, pants unfastened and hand pressed against the bulge in his boxers. He nearly missed the next communication, busy drinking in the sight of Rodney's flushed face and heaving chest.

"Quarantine? Is that necessary?" he heard Rodney grouse, voice only slightly unsteady.

"We'll be right there," said John, tapping off his headset. He reluctantly picked up his jacket and shrugged it back on, watching Rodney struggle to fasten up his pants, face creased into unhappy lines.

"Why did Teyla have to pick up some weird weed on her boots?" Rodney demanded as they headed out the doors and towards quarantine. "I mean, would it have killed her to pick up a crazy alien allergen another time? And what do they think they're doing, sticking me into quarantine with an unknown allergen? I could die! It's all some terrible plot, isn't it? My god, you're all jealous of my genius, aren't you?"

John tuned out the ranting, wondering instead how the hell he was going to get through the stripping and decontamination showers and ritual prodding without jumping on Rodney, scarring the medical staff for life. Even if half of Atlantis knew, that was different to actually demonstrating the truth, and, even after being out of contact with Earth for over a year, Don't Ask, Don't Tell still lingered in his subconscious.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Somehow he made it through a night in quarantine in one piece, finally falling asleep, watching Rodney in his narrow bunk across the room, listening to Ronon's snores, trying hard not to give in to the temptation to cross the room and slip into bed with Rodney. After breakfast, the door swung open and Rodney disappeared into the labs for the day. John looked longingly at his shoulderblades, swiftly retreating towards his lab, and took himself off to deal with the complexities of running Atlantis on a shoestring. Maybe the geologists would have that report on the ore that could be processed to make shell casings.

A few hours later he scooped up a tray of lunch from the mess and went in search of Rodney. Surprisingly, the lab was deserted, Rodney standing at the whiteboard and humming to himself as he paced. John dropped the tray on Rodney's desk with a clatter, smirking as Rodney spun round, marker held like a weapon.

"Jumpy, are we?" he asked. Rodney smirked back.

"Frustration will do that to a man," he replied, strolling forward and snagging a sandwich from the tray. He stuffed half it into his mouth.

"Because your equations aren't working out? Or because you want me to bend you over your desk and fuck you so hard you can't sit down afterwards?" John hadn't meant to make his voice go dark, throaty. He'd meant to make it light, but just seeing Rodney was reminding him of every filthy thing he wanted to do, have done to him. He wanted to pin Rodney down and suck him, wanted Rodney to fuck him against the wall, wanted to jerk Rodney and listen to him scream and whimper as he came. Rodney dropped the other half of the sandwich, swallowing thickly.

"Over my desk, hmm?" asked Rodney, his own voice dropping to match, taking a step forward and leaning against the edge, just within John's reach.

"Over your desk, against the wall, on the floor. Any place where I have you, lube and some time."

Rodney tilted his chin up. "Would you prep me, or would you want me to prep myself? I like that, you know, knowing that you're watching me open myself up and get myself ready for you."

"Yeah, I like that too," agreed John, voice hoarse. Reaching out one hand, he ran his fingers down Rodney's arm, trailing over his hand and linking their finers together. Voices came from the hallway and John pulled his hand back reluctantly. He wanted to touch Rodney again. He wanted to kiss Rodney, to strip his clothes off and do whatever it took to make them both come. "Can we? Later?" he asked.

"God, yes," said Rodney. "Collect me for dinner." He picked up his abandoned sandwich and launched into a rant just as Zelenka burst into the lab, waving his laptop and shouting jubiliantly in Czech.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Dinner turned out to be a dash-and-grab raid on the MREs. Once Zelenka could be persuaded to speak English, the entire physics and engineering departments, and stray sections of chemistry, were electrified by the discovery of a ZPM manufacture unit in the database. Marines were dispatched with scientists to comb the southwest pier for the location of the actual warehouse where they were manufactured, and Elizabeth nearly wept with joy. Rodney looked like he'd stuck his finger into an electrical socket, and was nearly incoherent with glee. John watched him wave his arms and rant, valiantly ignored his rapidly hardening cock, and monitored the exploration teams as they trickled in carting boxes and hard drives full of data.

He lasted till nearly 2600 before the need to see Rodney overwhelmed him. The rest of Atlantis was starting to wind down, full of subdued joy at the prospect of being able to build ZPMs. People congregated in the hallways and living areas, looking tired and happy and hopeful. John hadn't seen it on their faces for a while. He poked his head into Rodney's lab, his need to be close to his lover tempered by the sweetness of the city's celebration.

Rodney looked up immediately from his laptop, the room a blur of movement around him as Radek and Miko and the others elbowed each other as they sorted through boxes and boxes of materials. Rodney's face creased into the smile he kept only for John. Truly joyful, open, warm: it never failed to warm John all the way to his toes. He smiled back and leaned against Rodney's desk.

"Want to get a drink?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Rodney. "I could leave this for a while."

John's lips quirked upwards. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Rodney? You did not just voluntarily agree to leave the lab right now, did you?"

"Don't you want to spend some alone time with me? Did I misinterpret the pleading eyes? The ones that are begging me to hustle you away and get you naked?"

"Uh, no. No misinterpretation," said John. Straightening up, he grabbed Rodney's wrist and pulled him out of his chair and towards the door. Rodney didn't even shout at his minions. Neither spoke until the door closed behind them, shutting them into the soft light of John's quarters. Their kiss was surprisingly gentle, lips and tongues and only the merest hint of teeth. It was as if the sweet, hopeful air of the rest of Atlantis had infected them too.

Rodney sighed and leaned his face into John's neck as the kiss ended, pressing against him in a long, slow hug. "It feels nice, you know? To have this chance, now," he said.

"I know," agreed John. Then he sighed, not sure how to say the next words. "Though we might not find an Earth to go back to."

"Yeah, but we've got Atlantis to look forward to, right? It's all there, John, in the database. Weapons. Spaceships, even. We can build you one."

"Now you're just trying to get into my pants, Rodney."

"Is it working?"

"Hell, yes." John laughed softly, nuzzling into Rodney's jaw. "Let's get naked."

Clothes hit the floor in soft piles, stripped off slowly and methodically with gentle strokes of fingers over exposed skin. Kisses passed between them, slow and hot as they backed towards the bed. Rodney stretched out on the bottom, hands dropping to squeeze John's ass as he licked over John's collarbone. John tugged the bottle of lube from under the pillow, flipping the lid off and looking down at Rodney with a half-smile. He slicked up two fingers and slid them down to his own ass, pressing inside, watching as Rodney's eyes widened and his fingers tightened on the curve of John's ass.

"God, you're amazing," he whispered. John twisted slightly on his own fingers, loving the feeling inside him, knowing he was stretching himself for Rodney's cock. Rodney grabbed the lube and slicked two of his fingers, gently easing them in alongside John's, opening John up. John tipped his head back and groaned, drunk on Rodney and the joy of living in this amazing place.

The headsets chirped tinnily from the floor and Rodney groaned. "I'm going to smash those damn things with a hammer," he announced, trying to snag them off the floor. John pushed him back on the bed.

"It can wait, Rodney. Whatever it is, it can wait."

"But they might come looking for me," Rodney protested.

"Let them. I need you."

Rodney groaned and John felt all resistance leave him. Rodney's fingers were back inside him, stretching him. Moaning, John twisted down on them. He pulled away, holding Rodney's cock in one hand and sliding down onto it, feeling it slide inside him, filling him up better than fingers could.

"You're so hot," said Rodney, easing his hands down John's chest and over his stomach, softly stroking his thighs. John smiled down at him and started to move so slowly that he thought his head might explode. Rodney felt perfect inside him and under him, and John suddenly wished that someone would come looking for Rodney, that they would find him here, sated and well-fucked, so everyone would know that he did it, that Rodney was his. That they were together, in love, and wasn't that a thought to blow his mind. John looked at Rodney, stretched out underneath him, face open and honest, full of love and affection.

They rocked together, hands drifting over each other's skin, kissing and licking and sucking everywhere they could reach. John felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, breath starting to come in long pants, fingers starting to clutch a little tighter on Rodney's shoulders, into his neck. He knew Rodney was close too, so he let himself go. Letting the bliss run through him, John came with a long shudder and a little, inarticulate moan, face pressed hard into Rodney's throat. Rodney followed with a gasp and moan, hands clenching hard on John's hips before letting go as he relaxed back into the bed, tugging John even closer.

When the banging started on the door, ten minutes later, they were still tangled together, kissing softly, murmuring to each other. Rodney rearranged them both, pulling the sheets up and calling out, "What is it?" in a pissy tone. John laughed into his shoulder, imagining the look on the face of the scientists on the other side, no doubt wondering whether Rodney was going to disembowel them. It was good. It was better than good. It was home.


End file.
